JESUS OPENED MY EYES
Written, Composed & Arranged by Michael Woodhead
Copyright ©1977, 2024 by Michael Woodhead
[Music only; vocals pending]
Thursday, December 12, 2024
Jesus Opened My Eyes
From My Autobiography : 1969 : Age 22
Sometime this year, I believe Dean and his girlfriend got married, and I rented out an apartment above his in a house for a really short time on 33 Avenue SW, Calgary. But for some reason, for the moment, much of my memory of this time is quite muddled.
I continue to market my songs with no success, but receive continued encouragement from the record companies.
I meet three girls [Dorothy, Paula, and Cora] who take me to see a friend of theirs—Ray—whom they met in a class on hypnosis. He and I become close friends.
Ray and I are still in touch after fifty-odd years.
I write a short horror story called Dreams under the pseudonym, ‘Vanessa Pomona’.
Other than my embarrassment at the time for ‘Woodhead’ as the last name for an author, and my desire to become a woman, I can think of no other reason why I chose a feminine pseudonym for this.
I sign up for an art course with Famous Artists School, but I find the lessons tedious. Eventually, I give up, and try to teach myself by focusing on faeries and nude women.
At first, I used carbon paper to make copies of pictures and photographs from comics and magazines until I felt more comfortable drawing my own sketches. Later I switched to onion skin. Of course, I still had to finish paying for the art course regardless of whether I did the lessons and sent them in or not. Unfortunately, I no longer have any of those early sketches.
My family moves to the Belfast area of Calgary.
Residence:
18 Street NE
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
While meeting with Ray on weekends for jam sessions [I sing and play guitar; he sings and plays drums], Dorothy and I begin to see a little bit more of each other. True to form, I soon get carried overboard and tell her I love her. “Oh dear,” she responds. “I've made a mountain out of a mole hill.” And we break up.
I say ‘true to form’ there because I often did find myself falling head-over-heels for various girls and women I met. I found it difficult to stick to a ‘just friends’ relationship. However, that was probably me just over-compensating for my internal desire to find the perceived love for which I sought. Oftentimes, I ‘loved’ from afar, yearning for something more, which also might explain the myriad songs I wrote inspired by the girls and women I knew—or yearned to know, but to whom I didn’t have the courage to speak or, perhaps subconsciously, wanted to be.
Ray and I send for some introductory lessons from the Rosicrucians. However, when it comes time for me to perform my first 'initiation ceremony', I don't feel comfortable doing it and drop my interest in them.
We get to know each other fairly well, and after a couple of months, he asks if he can meet me at the alley when it’s closing time.
I say, “Sure.”
Promptly at the appointed time, after the patrons and other staff have left, Matt enters, and I lock the doors.
Once down by the counter, I notice he’s brought a polaroid camera with him.
“I want you to take some photos of me,” he explains. “Nude.”
My face contorts with curiosity. “Say what?”
“I want some naked pictures of me,” he repeats. “Will you do that?”
“I guess so,” I respond. I don’t really have a problem with it. I’ve taken some nude shots of one of the women I know, so nudity isn’t an issue, although it will be the first time photographing a man.
He gives me the camera and then gets undressed.
At first, it feels a little weird looking at a naked man ‘in the flesh’ in this situation.
He makes various poses and I take several shots.
After he has a look at the prints, he asks, “Can I take some of you, too?”
The question surprises me, but then I think, Why not? Should be fun.
I take off my clothes, shiver slightly [more from uncertainty than a chill in the air] and Matt shoots some pics of me.
After we’ve had a look at them, Matt casually asks. “Do you think I can—uh—stick my penis in you, and you put yours in me?”
I break out in a sweat, grab my clothes, and ask him to leave.
He tries to plead with me, but I don’t give in.
It’s not something I want to do.
Eventually, he leaves.
With both sets of photos.
I never see him again.
Or the photos.
MAY
I go to see the movie, Midnight Cowboy, and come out fantasizing I should become a gigolo for women who can’t get their needs fulfilled by their husbands or boyfriends.
That never materialized, of course. At the time, I’d even thought about becoming an actor in pornographic films. I realized, later, that I was desperately looking for my first sexual experience with a woman even though I was still conflicted about my sexual identity.
I go to see the movie called I Am Curious, Yellow and am fascinated and excited by its sexual content.
SUMMER
I meet and have a short relationship with Melissa.
One evening, she has a little too much to drink and I take her home to her apartment.
Since she mentioned she wanted to have sex with me during an earlier conversation, I’m eagerly looking forward to my first real sexual encounter with a woman.
We get undressed and slide into bed and, as I clumsily get on top of her to begin, she abruptly falls into a deep, alcohol-induced sleep before anything else can happen.
My ardour deflates rapidly.
Extremely disgruntled, I dress and leave.
Sexually, I feel so frustrated.
I’m 22 and still a virgin!
FALL
I meet Patricia Eeckeleers. We sing and work on a few songs together—she writes the lyrics and I provide the music for Angel in the Morning, Breathe, Fate of Man, Nobody Knows, and Second Best . We’ve managed to reconnect again, these many years later.
WINTER
Still searching for some spiritual or metaphysical meaning to my life, I send for the introductory lessons from Astara—a ‘church of all religion, a School of the Ancient Wisdom, and a channel for the Aquarian Age’. However, just like my previous Rosicrucian experience with Ray, I never finish the first few lessons. It just doesn’t ‘feel’ right for me.
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